


Caretaker

by sign_from_god_complex



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Autism, Autism Spectrum, Autistic Logic | Logan Sanders, Autistic Morality | Patton Sanders, Fluff, Gen, Hyperfocusing, Patton is an excellent roommate and friend as always, They're All Autistic, cause I'm the author and I say so
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-29
Updated: 2019-03-29
Packaged: 2019-12-26 05:19:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,431
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18276581
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sign_from_god_complex/pseuds/sign_from_god_complex
Summary: Logan is a little too caught up with his work and Patton reminds him to look after himself first.





	Caretaker

**Author's Note:**

> I know this isn’t a whole lot on its own, but I wanted to do some autistic sides content so I thought (read: hoped) it was good  _enough_. I was thinking I could write one for Patton taking care of/helping each of the sides in different ways and then one of them all helping Patton, cause I love stuff like that. So, although this is marked as completed, I may very well add onto it.
> 
> Talk to me on tumblr!! ~ [sign-from-god-complex](https://sign-from-god-complex.tumblr.com) ~

****"Logan? When was the last time you had something to eat?"

Logan looked up from his laptop blankly, blinking as his eyes adjusted to the dim light of the room. He was aware Patton had said something, but he wasn't 100% sure what exactly it was he had said, his mind far too caught up in his work.

He'd had the perfect idea for his astronomy paper earlier that morning, right in the middle of drinking his first cup of coffee, and had immediately wrapped himself up in getting it all written out and edited. The fact that the paper didn’t need to be handed in for another month was mostly irrelevant. It would certainly be useful to be a little bit ahead of the other students, plus this idea was far too good to let slip away regardless of the due date.

"I'm sorry, what was that, Patton?" Logan adjusted his glasses, semi-absentmindedly taking in his roommate’s form in the partially darkened room.

Patton was sitting upright in the armchair across from Logan— _presumably indicating a serious discussion_ —leaning forward slightly— _likely to show engagement in the present conversation, potentially also to appear less intimidating_ —and giving a— _reassuring? kind? worried?_ —smile. All relatively common body language displays from him; nothing too out of the ordinary.

Logan wasn’t entirely sure when he’d arrived in the position he was in but, taking into account Patton’s almost constant sensory seeking and the lack of stim toys or blankets in his possession, Logan would assume it hadn’t been long.

"I asked when you'd last had something to eat, Lo," Patton said, tilting his head to the side— _curiously? interestedly?_

Logan hummed, returning his gaze to his paper, only vaguely continuing to pay attention to Patton. "Virgil brought me a chocolate bar not too long ago."

He skimmed the paragraph he’d just written, quickly refamiliarising himself with the point he was attempting to make.

"And did you eat it?"

There was something in Patton’s tone that made Logan pause. Of course, he'd eaten it! …hadn’t he? Chancing a look down at the table in front of him, Logan caught sight of the whole, still wrapped chocolate bar Virgil had brought him—sitting in plain view of Patton. Oh.

"It would appear not."

Logan watched as Patton sighed, scrunching up his face a little— _in pain? annoyance? really, he had no idea_ —before speaking again. “Lo, I know you’re still kinda hyperfocusing but do you think you could come with me to grab some food?”

“Why would you require my companionship in order to eat?”

Patton screwed up his face again and Logan had a distinct feeling that he wasn’t grasping something that was vital to his understanding of this conversation. Truthfully, that was how Logan felt about most conversations, however, this was something beyond the realm of his regular confusion.

“Sorry, I didn’t phrase that well.” Patton began to scratch lightly at the chair he was sitting on. Logan’s mind immediately latched onto the sound, almost entirely blocking out Patton’s next words. “I meant, can you come with me so I can get  _you_ something to eat? Please?”

Logan blinked. He shut his laptop, recognising this was something he should appear slightly more involved in, even if he wasn’t entirely sure of the reasoning. He  _desperately_ wanted to continue working on his paper—he was halfway through a really interesting train of thought that he didn’t want to lose—but he owed Patton more than that.

“Why?”

Patton didn’t look offended by the question—he knew Logan wasn’t being snarky, he was genuine.

One of the best things about having entirely neurodivergent or autistic roommates was, despite them having their own difficulties and strengths, they were at least all  _aware_ of the things the others struggled with.

For example, Virgil had the most trouble with verbal communication, as well as having issues with becoming easily emotionally overwhelmed. Because they knew this, it resulted in the three of them being more cognizant of situations that could prove to be challenging to Virgil, or for that matter, any of them.

The level of communication in neurodivergent circles, Logan had found, was infinitely superior to the level of communication in neurotypical circles—something he personally appreciated a great deal. It was impossible to comprehend what people were trying to get across if they didn’t simply say what they meant; he didn’t understand this obsession neurotypicals had with making conversations more difficult than they needed to be.

“I’m worried about your wellbeing, that’s why,” Patton replied, pausing his scratching to pick up a stim toy from the table in front of him, “You haven’t eaten all day.”

“ _All day?_ ”

Logan frowned. That seemed like a curious choice of words. After all, it could only be… What? 12 pm at the lates-

“Lo, it’s 8 pm.”

Ah, there it was.

At the revelation of the amount of time that had truly passed since he’d sat down to begin his paper, Logan abruptly became more aware of his surroundings, almost as if being pulled out of a dream. The appearance of the room, though once so hazy and unimportant, was forced into clarity and Logan had to take a second to process.

It was dark. He had noticed it was dark and yet he hadn’t until this exact moment realised the significance of that. It was also quiet—good for his focus, presumably not very good for his awareness—so he could assume that Virgil and Roman had retired to their own rooms.

His alarms had probably been going off all day and he hadn’t paid them any attention in the slightest. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d had something to drink. Was it that coffee this morning? His throat was so dry, he was lucky he didn’t have a headache.

Patton’s concern seemed infinitely more warranted now.

Logan furrowed his brow, sucking his bottom lip into his mouth. “I see.”

“Mmhmm,” Patton hummed. He threw the stim toy back onto the table before bouncing up out of the chair and over towards Logan. “So, you okay to come and get food with me now? I might even throw in some Crofter’s for dessert…”

If Logan wasn’t already prepared to accept Patton’s suggestion of food, the mention of his samefood certainly would have been enough to get him there.

He wondered, with enough convincing, whether Patton would make him Crofter’s waffles for dinner. Normally Logan felt very strongly about only eating breakfast foods for breakfast, but considering this entire day had been a disaster as far as routine was concerned—and if Logan thought about that for more than a second his chest started to tighten and his hands started to twitch—he supposed he might as well ask.

It would throw his whole week off, no doubt, but quite honestly, he felt like today was going to accomplish that whether he ate waffles for dinner or not. And at the present moment, Logan was willing to risk it regardless, solely to obtain a fraction of the comfort Crofter’s waffles brought him.

He stood up from the couch, wincing slightly at the way his muscles protested the movement. Despite all the work he’d managed to get done, staying in essentially one position for over ten hours definitely had its disadvantages. “Yes, Patton. That would be ideal.”

Logan threw in a, “thank you,” for good measure—it always paid to show gratitude to people when they were doing you a favour, and Patton appreciated good manners.

It was the kind of thing Logan had come to realise was quite important when sharing a living space with someone. He couldn’t say he had been all that polite in the past, but every time Virgil left his dirty dishes in the sink or Roman woke him up by singing Disney songs in the hallways, Logan understood Patton’s perspective just that little bit more.

Patton lit up at the response, his face breaking out into a grin and his whole body doing a small wiggle— _happiness; that one Logan was absolutely sure of._ He’d had enough exposure to Patton’s pleased stims to be able to recognise them when they happened.

Plus, he may or may not have whole sections of his notebooks dedicated to his roommates’ stimming habits—as well as sensory preferences, triggers and anything else Logan deemed important—but that was neither here nor there.

“Good,” Patton said brightly and before Logan even noticed he was moving he was grabbing a hold of Logan’s hand and pulling him into the kitchen.


End file.
